Fighter Club
by BorisTheBlade
Summary: People were always asking me… If I knew a guy named Fighter… I always responded the same way. Now, in retrospect, I wish I never met Fighter. My life is summed up in three words. Mischief, Mayhem, Swords.
1. Requiem For A Support Group

**Chapter 1**

And so I woke up, that red hair, those maniacal eyes, and that goofy armor staring down at me. The infernal statement just randomly popped into my head...

_People were always asking me... if I knew a guy named Fighter..._

"This is it... ground zero... Would you like to say a few words to make the occasion?"

My vision was still fuzzy and for a moment I didn't see anything at all... but I recognized the voice... How I wished it were the voice on the phone when you call to order sofas. But I knew it wasn't. I tried responding to Fighter, but my words were muffled. Only vowels came out, I felt my mouth get cut a few times. Seeing this, the red haired maniac pulled whatever it was from my jaws. He let the hand holding, not surprisingly, a sword fall to his side.

"I can't think of anything." I mumbled and spit blood to the floor

Fighter nodded and walked away from me. He turned his back on me... Didn't he know I was insanely powerful? I could get up and rip him to shreds... Why did he turn around? Nevertheless, for a moment my mind wandered from the destruction at hand, and Fighter's intentions and I asked myself... what had he been doing with that sword... My mind flashed an image of Fighter in a weapons shop having a little too much fun. I quickly changed the station on my mind.

"It's getting exciting now." I heard Fighter's monotonous voice ring behind me

You know that saying how the one you hate never hurts you, you just hurt yourself for hating the person?

Actually, I think I just made that up, but I think it still holds some truth.

I looked back at him staring down from a window thirty stories above the ground, leaning against it. He stared out into the night as if looking for something. What was Fighter looking for? Chaos.

We have front row seats for this theater of mass destruction, not that when the shit came down I was going to mind. The Black Wizards have been aiming at the foundation columns of a dozen building and on Fighter's word a few square blocks would be reduced to smoldering rubble... And I know this... Because Fighter knows this...

"Think of everything you and I have accomplished..." Fighter spoke

By now, after hearing his voice for so long... It had almost become otherworldly... The voice you heard so many things from, so good, now going so bad... And then I realize, in that fleeting moment that the sword, the Wizards, everything... Had something to do with a girl called White mage...

  


**CLANG**

  


This is Bob... Bob lost all his magic.

We were in an old church building... It was falling apart but people from all over came around... Why? Because they lost all their magic... This was a support group for mages who got their magic stripped away from them. In most cases the MP was completely taken away and in turn most of their other attributes went down too. In Bob's case, it was intelligence.

"We're still mages..."

"Yes we're mages... Mages are what we are..."

Bob was a Red Mage. We were surrounded by Black, White, and Red mages. Even some Wizards were thrown in there... In this little group of once mages I tried to become a beacon of hope... And so I did my part...

"You cry now." Bob told me, tears flowing from under his plumed hat when he pulled me against his armor.

Actually, let me start over...

I am in the middle of a terrorist plot at the moment with Black Wizards and yet I have the time and energy to tell you my story... Oh well, plot holes don't concern me.

For as long as I could remember... I couldn't sleep...

When you're a person like me with insomnia, your day is both humorous and tiring. Everything looks like it's set aflame but it's all far away so you take no joy in it... Everything looks the same, too. It's all just a copy... of a copy... of a copy... And so I strolled back to my desk in my office. Why did I take this job in the first place, I ask myself and then I remember, I am in poverty and I have some experience in the this field.

On a completely unrelated note when the RPG genre begins to appeal to younger kids with their Game Boys, everyone will give them cutesy titles. The Bird's Quest. Pokemon Scarlet. The Adventures of Big Bird RPG.

I shook myself from my state of daydreaming. I saw my boss, an old Ninja, walk over to my desk with a stack of files. What a dickhead...

"We're gonna need you outta Corneria a little more this week. We have a few red flags to cover..."

I looked around my plain cubical. I stared at my computer, blinking with pop-ups. I imagined people getting mutilated. I just stopped listening... Nothing he said ever made a difference to me... I always ignored it... Especially on Tuesdays. How did I know it was Tuesday? He was wearing his cornflower blue Ninja cowl. I decided to not just leave the poor bastard hanging there. Someone in his office has to be a little nice to him.

"You want me to de-prioritize my current reports?" I asked, humoring him

"Yeah, here's your airship coupons, call me from the air if there are any snags."

He was peppy this Tuesday. He must have had his double-elixir enema.

Like so many others I had become a slave to the Ikea nesting instinct. I would sit on the toilet for hours at a time looking at the shower curtains and wondering if curtains with a flowery design described me better. Not even considering the fact that I didn't have any friends so it was all for self-gratifying purposes anyway. I would look through catalogues buying staves, knives, electric chairs, plates, and dining room sets. My life became the by-product of cheap furniture and spell books... Of course... these things had a built in fail-safe for people buying shit they didn't need.

"Please hold." The cheerful voice on the recorder spoke

For a determined consumer like myself, a recording wasn't going to stop me. I was going to wait out the musak and buy the swivel chair that I think best describes me as a person. I went through my high-rise apartment, stacked full of clever tables, sofas, and knives smothered with blood, to my fridge to make a sandwich. Very often the phone was up to my ear. What kind of sandwich? Spam with mustard. It was nasty but I seldom went to the store nowadays. And even if I did, I knew my reason for not buying much... I didn't want someone to get rich off my hard earned cash.

"No... you can't die from something like insomnia."

"You're sure about that?"

"I think you have mental problems, myself. You're in here saying that you cast spells at people and kill them and you're not able to sleep... Perhaps the bloodshed is the problem... personally... that's why many people are sleeping for eternity... cause you killed them."

I hated my doctor... He always put things so bluntly.

"I prefer to use the term "Put them out of their misery"."

"What misery?!"

"The misery they endure by becoming citizens and living in the world that cares only about gil and how to earn it!"

And yet, this makes me a hypocrite... Half the people I've killed don't sit at home and look through catalogues while they take a piss.

My doctor thought I was a nut... And now, that I've admitted to killing people... He was going to try and bust me.

"Well, that's interesting, however just try some sleeping pills temporarily..."

"Alright, doctor."

He was part of the mass conspiracy to steal money from the poor and hurting... In my mind, he was miserable.

"Excuse me, doctor." I called after him

He turned and looked at me. He had a smirk on his face... At that moment... a flash of anger rose through me... embodying itself in a being, a warrior with a sword. He rose behind the doctor and began to stab him but then... disappeared... My rage held out, however.

"I may not be able to die from my insomnia... But you can."

  


**STAB!**

  


Before I realized it my knife was in my hand and I had just stabbed my doctor. I put the knife in my pocket and casually walked out.

Security, you ask? Simple, I just had told them I had walked down the hall and found him that way... I knew it wasn't a good story, but I wouldn't know then that soon many problems would arise so they would not even look for me anymore.

How I got to those support groups is... Many magic associations have a policy on the abilities of the applicant.

"I'm sorry... you're spell casting abilities are just too high to be in this organization."

This was the headquarters of The Magic Hitman Association of Corneria.

"Wait...you're saying I'm over qualified to kill people?"

Something I had never heard before.

"No, what I'm saying is..."

I really didn't hear much of the following... I was still trying to comprehend the fact you could actually have to much experience to be in the business of killing people.

"... and so with applicants, such as yourself, we require that you forget you have magic and humble yourself for a weekend or two before you can be in our business."

"Because I'm too good at killing people?"

"No sir, it seems you have problems that we should not get into. A person like you is liable to kill too many people. That is our problem with you."

Many different words that said, basically, I was just passionate about my job.

"So what do you want me to do?" I was ready to explode because of all this red tape

"There are support groups over in Second Methodist on Wednesday nights." He told me

I didn't see where this was going. Was I supposed to kill them all? After all, people who go to support groups are usually miserable.

"And...?" I was waiting for the mention of death

"The support group you are to attend is "Remaining Mages Together". You are to go and humble yourself by listening to their problems and acting as if you have problems. If you can understand where you've been going wrong by killing so many people, you are thus hired."

I was stunned.

"You're saying you want me to just go there and act like I don't have any magic? Listen to people with problems?!"

"That's the idea."

I had nothing better to do.

I walked out to Second Methodist. Walked up the stairs to a long hallway, all filled with support groups. This was going to be torture. Maybe that was the point, for me to feel as much pain as those I've killed. I wasn't quite sure. I walked down the halls with paint peeling from the walls and crying echoing. I walked into what seemed to be the worst room of them all. A sign was taped onto a Wet Floor stand. It read, "Remaining Mages Together". Even the title made my stomach churn. I walked aimlessly through the room that seemed the dullest, and worst built rooms I had ever been in. I wanted to set it aflame and see the colors dance around as if in a play... But I didn't... I was here for a reason, even if that reason was not clear to me. I wandered to a table with a filled coffee pot, pens, and nametags. I took up one of the plastic writing utensils and wrote down a fake name. This would be my only time here, why do they need to know who I really am?

And so I slapped the sticker that read "Hi, My Name Is", with my fake name, Kuja, on my chest and I sat down in one of the horrible plastic chairs. The kind you were forced to sit in back in grade school. I just sat down and didn't say anything. They looked at me, not with contempt, however, but with sorrow. They believed I had lost my magic, too. This made my mind laugh, but my face remained stern.

Finally, a mage stood.

"Hi... erm..."

The mage was not comfortable with the situation. Opening up yourself to so many strangers. 

"Well, my name is Cartan, and I've lost my magic."

There was assorted clapping, like in the movies at an A.A. meeting. This guy, Cartan, apparently had completely changed the way people looked at white magic. He had been a pioneer. The first male white mage. It was going great, until he got married. A thief. His wife was a thief, which was also unusual. She had stolen everything of his and his ability to use magic. No one knew how. Perhaps it was just a story to conceal something more embarrassing.

"Well, she re-married the other day... and I mean... that's great... She is a great woman... But I ha... I ha..."

He tried to get the word hate out. He couldn't. He was an instrument of white magic. He could not hold anyone in contempt for anything. They were all equal to him and he loved everyone. I found this asinine.

The leader of the group stood up. He patted Cartan on the head. More assorted clapping.

"I am proud that Cartan was able to share himself with us... We are going through this together... and we are strong as one. Now, let's split up into groups."

What a hypocrite.

The mages rose from their seats and found partners. I stayed in mine. I didn't know it but my face had curled into a mask of sorrow. Maybe I had feelings... Nah... I just didn't want anyone to discover me. I guess it worked. Before I had looked the room over a tall, red mage walked toward me, the plume in his hat waving back and forth as he walked. I looked at his tag. His name was Bob. He held me his hand, and I took it.

"My name is Bob." He spoke, already starting to cry

"Hi... Bob... I" I couldn't even finish my sentence.

  


**CLANG**

  


My head bashed against his armor. My head throbbed. It turned out Bob was a Min/Maxer. You know how people who play D&D always try and max out their stats to the very highest with the least margin of weakness... Bob was the first. Now, with his magic gone, this lowered all his attributes considerably. This made him an idiot. 

I began picking up the tail end of whatever he had been saying...

"And now, my girlfriend left me, I lost all my intelligence, and my D&D buddies... won't even return my phone calls."

Could a mage with this kind of pain make me actually feel something for him or should I might as well vaporize him. After all he, like most people, was miserable. Is it not my duty to put him out of his misery?

He stopped crying.

"It's ok, Kuja. You can cry."

He hugged me tighter and there I stayed, in the breastplate of his armor, head throbbing. I wanted to kill him. I wanted to hate him for opening up to me... I wanted to kill them all... But I couldn't... Something they said... Something about them made me feel no hatred. I understood what my killing had been doing to people. What pain I had been causing... And I cried... I cried for a few minutes, my beady eyes flowing with tears onto his armor. He kept patting me on the back, saying it's ok. He assumed my magic was gone too... When really, all that was gone was my hatred.

When I got home, my eyes still moist, I fell on the bed and reflected on my day. Before I knew it, my eyes were closed and I was asleep... Not even the dead sleep that well.

I became... enlightened... I now knew what they meant by humbling myself. They needed me to be merciful. They needed pity amongst my evil. That's what these groups gave me... And, It granted me sleep. I took the entire schedules of these groups off bulletin boards. I looked through papers. I always remembered not to say anything. I remembered to listen, not to speak. When I didn't say anything, people always assumed I would die at any moment right there in front of them. Even though they too were suffering the human instinct kicked in and they felt the need to say everything they could to me, the guy about to keel over and die. If those people, suffering and hurting cried harder, I cried harder for finally understanding what I had put so many people through...

"Now we're going to open the next door..."

Guided meditation. I thought it was great... Though I hadn't lost my magic or my attributes I still felt I got something out of these groups... I was the center of attention... I, in their eyes, was about to die. This gave them a shred of hope, knowing others were out there suffering as much as they were... I gave them this hope... and that made me cry too...

"Now breath, and step forward into your cave."

When I was in my cave, I saw skulls lying on the ground. Fire shooting up through the crevasses in the rock. Statues of warriors with swords crumbling before my eyes.

"You feel the healing energy of this place all around you."

To most people, my cave would give them a heart attack... To me... It made me calm... full... and complete.

"Now find your power animal."

I always saw a tiger crawl from around one of the corners. It roared at me, with it's enormous teeth... Then it spoke to me...

"Die!"

And then it fell to the ground and died.

Just like my animal implied... Every evening I died... And then every morning, when I awoke from the bliss that had become sleep... I was born again. Resurrected back to my hateful self... Then, that night, the hatred died... and that was a piece of me dieing, but I didn't care...

Bob loved me because he thought I had lost my magic too. So that's where I was, head against his breastplate... Ready to cry... Ready to let loose from my hatred... But one day... Lying against my Red Mage comrade... she walked in... and she... ruined... everything...


	2. The Healer With the Heart Of Gold

**Chapter 2**

This chick, White Mage, had not lost her magic. She was a tourist. A faker. I'd seen her at my Poisoned Anonymous meeting Monday night, and then again at "Let's Get Moving", my Slow assistance meeting in the middle of the week. When she was there... I hated her for it... This made it impossible for me not to hate others... And when I couldn't not hate others, I couldn't cry... And so once again... I couldn't sleep.

Another thing to know about White Mage... Why did she go to groups? For what purpose? It was quite simple, I assumed. She went to all sorts of groups trying to find people she could heal. Trying to save them all by casting her white healing magic. We kept seeing the numbers go down in our groups... People kept getting healed by White Mage... Soon, if she kept this up, not only will she make me unable to cry... But she'll heal all the people I can cry to...

Next group... After guided meditation... When it's time to pick a partner I'm gonna go up to that little bitch White Mage and scream...

"WHITE MAGE! You liar! I hate you! YOU DIE NOW!"

And then I would most likely vaporize her... Not a good move.

I hadn't slept in four days... When you have insomnia, you're never really asleep... and you're never really awake... I would lie awake at night watching TV on my sofa unit... I would flip through channels looking for the home shopping network... just to see what kind of things I could buy to make me a good person. When I got home from groups at night I would fall asleep... That past year my credit card bill had gone down considerably. I had a feeling, if White Mage kept showing up... It would rise again.

"To begin tonight... Aeris would like to say a few words..."

Assorted clapping through the small chapel.

Oh yeah, Aeris. Aeris is what Terra would look like if you took away all her magic and had her be one of the weakest characters and walk around the world map being extra nice to everyone.

Aeris went up to the podium and began to speak.

"Well... I'm still here... But I don't know for how long..."

Aeris's problem was that she had received a vision. It was from later in her life when Sephiroth would thrust a blade through her stomach. She had seen this and became instantly afraid of everyone.

"I do have some good news... I no longer have any fear of death..."

More assorted clapping.

"However, I have put myself in a pretty lonely predicament... Cloud won't have sex with me... I told him I was going to die and he said he didn't want to make love to a dead girl..."

This could go on for hours. I shut it out. I didn't care... I hated her. Why? I glanced over at White Mage, sitting in her normal seat, acting innocent.

"Erm... thank you Aeris... Everyone let's thank Aeris..." the head of the group spoke

More assorted clapping. I don't know how long she had talked.

"Now... let's all ready ourselves for guided meditation..."

And so it began. The normal meditation session... I couldn't get my hatred for White Mage out of my mind... White Mage... the status ailment that would heal if you had one of the most common items... but you don't...

"You're stepping deeper into your cave... You feel the healing energy of this place radiating all around you... Now find your power animal..."

I looked in the part of my burning hell of a cave. I looked for the tiger. None came. I saw a dark figure sitting on a rock. I tapped it on the shoulder and it became light. The darkness changed into a body, and then made a face. It was White Mage.

"Die." She spoke

I could see myself, powering up a blast that would surely destroy her... And then... I snapped out of it.

"Good, a good meditation session. Now let's partner up."

I strolled over to her in her snow-white robe. I grabbed her by the arm. It was time for me to make a stand.

"Hey, we need to talk." I told her

She wasn't fazed, "Okay."

We began to walk across the room.

"I'm on to you. You're not dieing" I cut to the chase

"What?"

"I know in the evil villain philosophy, the Kefka sense of the word, we're all dieing. However, you're not dieing the way Aeris back there is dieing."

"So?" I wondered if she was even listening

"So, you're a faker. A tourist, okay. I've seen you. I've seen you at a lot of my groups."

I held my fingers out to count the groups she's been at off to her, but she interrupted.

"I saw you leveling up for this."

I paused, "What?"

"Telling me off. Is it going as well as you hoped..." a glance at my nametag, "Seifer?"

"I'll expose you." Not really that original

"Go ahead, I'll expose you."

The head of the group came around. White Mage pretended to cry... I had to admit... She was beautiful... Very attractive... I snapped out of it.

"Why are you coming to these things?"

"So I can help people." She remarked

"Well, these are my groups. I need this. I've been coming to these for over a year now."

"Why do you come? What gift do you have to offer?"

"Comfort. I offer them comfort and they make it so I can't hate... I begin to have feelings. But when there's another faker in the room, I can't. You need to find someplace else to go."

She looked at me like I was totally nuts. Then she just shrugged and walked toward the entrance onto the street. I followed her...

"Listen, I got it... We can split up the week. You take the Sleep status aliment, seeing as I can't sleep, and Masochists Anonymous..."

She cut me off.

"You take Masochists Anonymous... My healing abilities don't go over at all."

"Alright, good, fine. Seeing as you can't really heal them, Remaining Mages Together should be no contest."

"Well, technically, I have more of a right to be there. People like you don't believe my magic does anything..."

"That's true but... never mind."

We walked into a sword shop. She waited for the cashier to leave and then stole as many as she could and walked out. We were walking on the street again.

"What do you want?" I asked

"I'll take the paralysis." 

"You can't have both types of paralysis, so take the slow paralysis, but I'm going to take the slow death..."

Cut off again.

"I want that."

"You can't have both slows!"

"So far, you have four, I only have two."

"Fine, take both the paralysis... Now we both have three..."

Then it just dawned on me we were walking down the street and she was carrying stolen swords.

"Wait... what are you doing with those swords?"

I was confused.

We walked into a place where they melted down metal to make things such as bottle caps and aluminum cans. She was selling the swords.

"Why are you selling those?"

"So they will be out of the reach of anyone willing to use them for bad purposes... Anyway, we each have three, that's six, what about the seventh day, I want Undead Anonymous."

The girl had done her homework.

"No... No I want the undead."

The person behind the counter took that statement the wrong way.

"That's your favorite too? Do you enjoy talking to dead people?" she mocked me

"LOOK! We're going to split it. Take the first and third Sunday of the month."

She paused, "Okay... Looks like this is goodbye..."

We shook hands. Suddenly the feelings inside my mind telling me she was hot and sexy popped back into conscious thought.

"Hey, hows about you and I go make some magic of our own?"

The part of me that was talking was not my mind... It was my sex drive...

She looked at me very sternly.

"Do you want to be hammered?"

"Actually, I think that's what I say to you... heh heh..."

She then pulled out a huge iron hammer. I got the picture.

"Heh... Nevermind..."

She then walked out of the store... I still had my testosterone up... But my mind and my manhood mixed... making an idea. I rushed out of the store.

"Hey, White Mage!" I called out to her

She was in the middle of the street when she turned around.

"What?" She asked, annoyed

"Maybe we should exchange numbers... In case we want to switch nights..."

She thought for a good long time.

"Okay." She said finally

And so this is how I met a girl name White Mage. We exchanged numbers and she looked at it as she began to cross the street. She looked up and turned around.

"It doesn't have your name... Who are you? Kuja? Seifer? Any of the villain names you give each night?"


	3. Gimme A Ticket For An AeroShip

**Chapter 3**

You wake up at Baron... Boss battle... You fly into Midgar, Kalm, Junon... Random attacks... You fly into tons of airship docks... World map, cities, dungeons... Lose an item... gain an item... This is your life... And it's ending one random encounter at a time... You wake up at Narshe International... If you wake up in a different place... At a different time... Could you wake up as a different character?

Everywhere I go... Single serving ether, single serving elixir, single serving potion... "Food For Heroes Chicken Dinner". Sample package item combos... This is rather appropriate... the people I meet on every airship... They're single serving NPCs... Between take off and landing we have our time together, but that's all we get... I would sit inside my inn rooms at all these places and I would think what kind of person the next single serving NPC would be...

On a long enough timeline, the HP of everyone drops to zero...

I was a recall coordinator... My job was to apply the formula... I always did on these business trips... Two guys would escort me into an area where a random encounter took place where the party members died while they used weapons manufactured by my company...

"See the blood spatter on the blade? The monster must have been huge, just look at how large the blood sprayed... Very... modern art..."

The people that escorted me were always the most interesting of characters...

A weapon made by my company is used in a random battle... For some reason, equipping that particular weapon dropped all the character's stats... This person used to be the strongest character, but now his attack is lowered to zero... Now, should we initiate a recall? Multiply the number of weapons in the field, A, by the probable rate of failure when mixed with other armor and accessories, B, and then multiply it by the average random encounter loss, C. A times B times C equals...

"...X..."

I was explaining this all to a single serving NPC.

"If X is less than the cost of a recall, we don't do one..."

He was stunned.

"Are there a lot of these kinds of battles?" he asked

"You wouldn't believe."

A pause.

"What weapons company do you work for?"

He asked too many questions.

"A major one." I always responded the same to that question

Every time the airship banked too hard on take off or landing... I prayed for a crash... Or a mid-air Boss battle... And suddenly... I saw a huge flying, snake-like creature take a huge chunk out of the airship with it's fangs. What thoughts were running through my mind? Insurance pays off triple if you die on a side quest.

"Please fasten your seatbelt, sir." The stewardess said It was a dream

Then, a voice began to speak. "If you are seated on an emergency X-Potion row..."

The man next to me, a guy wearing red armor with red, poofy hair, looked up and saw he was... Then he continued

"... and you feel you will be unable to carry out the procedure listed on the safety card... please ask your stewardess to reseat you."

"That's a lot of responsibility..." I said

"Want to switch seats?" he smirked as he asked

"Nah, I don't think I have enough experience points for that job..." I mocked

"An emergency potion procedure at thirty thousand feet... The illusion of healing..."

"I guess so."

I was really unsure how to respond to that.

"Do you know why they put save points on air ships?"

"So you can save."

"No, air ships... make you die... While you're on an airship it's common knowledge you'll be attacked while you're in the air... Suddenly an insanely powerful boss pops up and you get ripped to shreds... Then you appear right back on the airship... however... In some cases, such as commercial airships, you will lose some gil, because you are paying to come back on the airship despite the fact you just died."

"Well... um... that's an interesting... uh... theory..."

Again, I didn't know how to respond.

"What do you do?" I asked him

"Why? So you can pretend like you're actually reading the story instead of pressing the X button rapidly so you can skip most of what I say?"

I laughed at this. It was normally true, "Okay..."

He looked at me for a moment more.

"Swords."

"Sorry?"

"I make an I sell swords... Yardstick of the modern warrior..."

He bent over in his seat and grabbed his item pouch... I looked at it then back at mine... They were exactly the same.

"We have the same item pouch."

He smirked and gave me a card of his company. The card read "Pencil Street Sword Company". And so this is how I met a guy named Fighter...

"Did you know that using materia, if you have two joined together slots if you put fire, and Knights of the Round in them, you'll have Knights of the Round with the added fire attribute."

Fighter was full of useful information...

"No I did not know that, is that true?"

"Yes it is. You'd be surprised what kind of insanely powerful spells you can make, using simple, run of the mill magic."

I just stared at Fighter and his red hair a minute.

"Fighter, you are by far the most interesting single serving NPC I have ever met..."

He was unfazed.

"You see, I have this thing..."

Cut off...

"Oh I get it. It's very clever... You must have a +5/+5 attribute in being clever..."

I didn't min/max but I took it as a compliment anyway.

"Thank you..."

"How's that working out for you?"

"What?"

Again with the confusion.

"Being clever."

"Great." I said

It was a lie.

"Keep it up then... right up..."

He then got up and began to walk out of our row

"Now a question of etiquette... As I pass should I give him the shield or the sword..."

I took this to mean the fact his sword was hanging down at his front and his shield was hanging on his back... Of course... It could mean something innuendo-ish...

How I came to live with Fighter is... Airship companies have a policy about beeping luggage... 

I looked at the baggage carrousel. My bag... it wasn't there. This did not make my hatred go away. I walked over to the guy supervising the luggage carrousel... He was talking on the phone... to whom? Probably some pizza place... he was kind of large...

"I'm sorry, what did you say was going on with it?"

Something had happened to my luggage.

"It was beeping. Ya see... when a suitcase beeps... We have to call the police..."

I didn't understand.

"Beeping? My suitcase… Was beeping?!"

"Nine time out of ten it's a cell phone that didn't get turned off... But every once in a while..."

He hesitated. He looked around.

"It's a game genie."

The most unholy of unholy game peripherals. It was against the law to have one. They were the most evil product produced by hand of man. Nevertheless, the man continued with his explanation.

"Of course, it's the law we can't insinuate ownership of the game genie until it's proven it belongs to you... We have to use the indefinite article A game genie, never... YOUR game genie."

By this time... I was compelled to deny anything.

"I do not own a..."

I started my sentence... But the man just cut me off...

I had everything in that suitcase... My staves... my level 9 spells... my knives... my...

I looked out of the window to see Fighter mounting a chocobo. A great golden bird... He must have been rich from his sword business... I'm poor and complaining about my knives... Nevermind. I just stood there... Then... a voice from outside answered the question that just popped into my mind...

"HEY! They're aren't Chocobos in FFI!"

I rode in the back of a taxi. We rode down the lit streets of Corneria. We drove to the high-rise apartment building... The building that I called home. The people who lived there? No one but Mages in training and wannabe professionals. The walls were solid concrete. A foot of concrete is important when your neighbor has lost her entire hearing attribute and is forced to watch Matlock at full volume. It's also important when your other neighbor is a pimp. Enough said. Another reason why the concrete is important because in the event a Hadoken blast of biblical proportions blows your entire life out of a Corneria window into the night, no one else in the building will be harmed. Such was the case this night.

I got out of the taxi as I had hundreds of times before but my apartment was not there waiting for me... Police cars, fire engines, and a flaming condo were, however. Flames spitting from the gaping hole in the building. I suppose these are one of those events... They have to happen for the story to progress... Or at least, that's what I was telling myself as I walked into the lobby of the condo complex. The doorman met me, look of sorrow plastered across his face.

"You can't really go up there... There's no floor... I'm terribly sorry."

The police would later tell me that a gas pipe had broken and I had left a fire gem in the middle of the kitchen. This gem gave off fire. Thus, when the gas came in contact with the gem... It all went up in flames... And now I needed a place to stay...

As I dug through my tattered pockets I found White Mage's phone number. I meandered over to a payphone and began to dial.

One ring...

Two ring...

  


**CLICK**

  


"Hello, who is this?"

I didn't answer.

"Who is this?!"

I hung up. I couldn't bear even talking to White Mage... Then, among the coins and spells in the pockets of my robe emerged the "Pencil Street Sword Company" card. Why did I call him? What was I hoping to accomplish? Now... I'm not sure...

The change went down the slot and I dialed the number...

One ring...

Two ring...

Three ring...

Four ring...

I hung up... He probably wasn't home.

Suddenly...

  


**RING**

  


The pay phone rang and I picked up.

"Hello?" I asked

"Who is this?" the voice on the other end answered

"Fighter?" A trace of uncertainty lingered in my speech

A pause.

"Who is this?!" he asked again

"Well, we met on the airship..."

Fighter didn't answer.

"We had the same item pouch."

Fighter didn't answer.

"The guy with the clever attribute."

Fighter answered, "Oh, right. Heh... So what's up?"

I had gotten through to him.

"Well... You're not gonna believe this..."

The truth was... He probably would.


End file.
